


Ogling Probably Counts as Sexual Harassment; like Stalking but w your Eyes

by Meraki_Moli



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College Student Eren Yeager, College Student Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Don't Take This Too Seriously; I Don't, M/M, Pining, Pining Eren Yeager, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 13:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18993583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraki_Moli/pseuds/Meraki_Moli
Summary: Eren has to actively tell himself to pull his eyes from the boy, but he can’t help but ogle the smooth, pale skin adorning that beautifully well built body





	Ogling Probably Counts as Sexual Harassment; like Stalking but w your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd I just sorta slapped something together and called it a day  
>  _~inspired by true story *insert disappointed shake of head*~_

Eren is not normally one for ogling. Or noticing people, at all—not because he hates people or anything (well. Sort of), but more like. A strong aversion to anything that can state its opinion. And an even _stronger aversion_ to the ones that tend to do it unnecessarily (which seems to be everyone he encountered in high school including adults)—he’s just _really_ picky about who he is willing to waste his time on (Reiner came a lot closer than Eren’s willing to admit when he was a sophomore in high school. Luckily, Eren was cynical, even at the tender age of 16, and hadn’t actively tried to pursue anything—thank God. The upperclassman had absolutely nothing to bring to Eren’s table so it was just something the younger teen had nurtured from afar until he grew tired of it one day).

He’s also not one for harassment (he thinks staring unwantedly counts) and has  gotten into his fair share of fights for punching creeps with no warning while they ogled, but this boy, _wow_! Eren can not turn his eyes away (and not for lack of trying).

Eren’s university offered free workout classes for students at the student gym and Eren and Armin had just gotten out of a kickboxing class—

(Armin happened to be the athletic coordinator for one of the student organizations they were apart of and as a result Eren and Mikasa were roped into all of his sporting shenanigans).—  

It was the last month of the semester, meaning Armin’s last month in that position before he moved up to secretary (he wanted to be president by senior year for reasons Eren can’t fathom with his double major pre-med track). Mikasa hadn’t been able to make it to this latest event because of another club meeting (where she was actually the new _IVP_ ) so it was only Eren and Armin from the org but he enjoyed it, even though he was expecting more foundation instruction (his form was only good because he actually boxed; he felt bad for the fuckers who couldn’t pull off a lead or a cross because their lead—the instructor not the punch—was garbage) but in any case it was fun.

That’s not what strikes Eren about that day though. What strikes him is what comes _after_. The two had gathered their things and taken a left into the hall.

The room adjacent to theirs still had a lesson going on.

Eren cranes his neck to peer in interestedly. The room is smaller than the one Eren and Armin had just exited, but there were more students as well. The lead was positioned with their back towards the other room, the mirror at their backs but the stage was a smaller, more janky looking platform than the one in the kickboxing room. There was an empty rack for weights in the top left corner. “Oh, is this weight lifting?”

Armin snickers, “that isn’t a class. It’s probably ‘Burn it Off’ or ‘Core’,” he leans closer. “Oh yeah, probably ‘Core’, look at all the weights.”

The weights from the weight rack lied in pairs by each participants mats strewn evenly around the room.

Eren nods, taking it in and, for lack of anything better to say, “super cool.”

They’re about to turn away, having reached the end of the hall and subsequently the end of the classroom, when Eren’s eyes latch onto someone in the corner closest to him. Only their back is visible but _oh_ , what a glorious back it is. His breath hitches while his eyes drink in the pale expanse of smooth skin before him.

“Armin,” he murmurs, entranced. Armin stops next to him but Eren barely registers the blond giving him his full attention, unable to tear his eyes away. “Look at his body.”

The words are murmured reverently and Armin watches Eren’s fingers twitch in concern. It almost looks like the darker haired man wants to reach out and press himself against the glass.

Armin can kind of see where he’s coming from. The guy is in a black muscle shirt and gym shorts. _Meaning_ there’s little left to the imagination.

It could be the arms that got Eren. Both arms are bent at right angles, pale hands (Eren can see the veins running through them— God help him) curled into fists around the metal of the bar resting on his shoulders. Muscles bulge in his bicep, lines creeping along the expanse deliciously, one way leads to defined forearms, the other adorn shoulders. Eren stares at the dips in his shoulder blades for far too long. They’re not pale and smooth along his back, _no_. The part of his back not covered in fabric is cut with muscle and Eren would give his first child and right nut to bet that they’d be firm and unyielding in his grip.

It’s not only the way the muscles are situated along his back that get Eren, but his entire body. The boy is short, almost comically short, but when he straightens from his squat (that he’s the only one doing) Eren bets his left nut and first love that they’re thick and shapely. Eren doesn't think of ass too much (or sex, for that matter in all honesty) but as his eyes travel back up the lean (oh, so deliciously lean and slender) body he finds himself wondering how full it is. The gym shorts leave _a lot_ to the imagination and he can’t make out any shape with them on but it doesn’t matter because Eren is almost certain (he doesn’t have any more nuts to bet but there’s still his dick) they’d fit perfectly into the palm of his hand.

 _Holy shit_ , he thinks to himself, willing himself to blink. _Where did that come from_? He mentally scolds himself, _Knock it off Jaeger! You’ve fought people for so much less than this, don’t be one of those creeps._

It’s almost comical how fast Eren’s eyes snap to the lead when the boy turns his head, glancing at them uninterestedly briefly before going back to his workout. _Almost_. He bobs his head a moment, pretending to be interested in every one’s movement.

Eren forces himself to look at other objects in the room, makes a point to frown a little and raise his brows in interest but keeps his eyes narrowed enough to feign it. He gives them a second then his eyes are back on that body. Eyes roving, hungry for any sliver of skin he can see.

He exhales watching the muscles in the boy’s back flex when he raises his weights above his head.

“He’s not even following the lead,” Eren says, sort of in love.

Armin, who up until now has been scrolling through his phone and letting Eren ride the wave of whatever this is, picks his head up, “hmm? Oh, yeah. He’s not.”

Armin cocks his head, “he is really good looking.”

Eren could just about drool, “I know right, like,” he growls, “look at the power in his arms.”

Armin shakes his head, sort of flushing when he knows where Eren is going with this, “only you have a power kink.”

“I can’t help it,” Eren declares, hands shoved in his pocket then shrugging.

Eren vibrates watching the muscles ripple. The boy drops to the ground and does push ups, then squats while everyone else lies on their back and raises variations of 5 to 50 pound weights (that was Armin in their last class— _“I’m gonna bulk up, Eren! I don’t want to be toned.”_ )

Eren groans _finally_ tearing himself away when he’s gotten his fill (but it’s still _not enough_ ), “he’s gorgeous. Wish I could see his face.”

“Well,” Armin starts glancing at his phone, “if you wait another five minutes like an _actual creep_ that’s when the class gets out.”

Eren scowls petulantly, “haha, very funny.”

“I’m just saying, now you’re one of those guys you shame so much. Starting to look like Jean,” he snickers, slyly.

Eren turns abruptly, shoving him, “fuck off. Don’t compare me to that horse faced jerk. Let’s get the rest of our shit from the lockers then stop at the dining hall.”

Eren doesn’t notice the dark haired beauty subtly casting his eyes in his direction and huffing in disappointment at his retreating figure.

**Author's Note:**

> An FYI: Armind ends up becoming a regular at those classes and then Levi ends up leading his own and Armin suggests Eren go to the new boxing class so Eren signs up for one just as a whatever and the instructor is Levi and ol’ boy just about diieess. I think it’s safe to say Eren becomes a regular until he builds up the nerve to actually talk to him (which he does do)
> 
> I was working on a pining Levi fic b4 this so I decided to match it w a pining Eren fic even though I try to avoid pining fics *insert sheepish emoji*


End file.
